Part 9 (1/2)

_Ire._ As if I loved!--as if!

_Gycia._ Indeed, 'tis well Thou didst not, were he free, for he, it seems, Has known of thee, and speaks not kindly words.

I know not wherefore.

_Ire._ Did he speak of me?

_Gycia._ Ay, that he did.

_Ire._ And what said he?

_Gycia._ I think 'Twere best thou didst not know.

_Ire._ Tell me, I prithee; I can bear to hear.

_Gycia._ 'Twas but a hasty word, And best forgotten.

_Ire._ But I prithee tell me, What said he?

_Gycia._ That 'twere best I were alone Than commercing with thee, since thou wert not My fit companion.

_Ire._ Said he that, the coward?

_Gycia._ I am his wife, Irene.

_Ire._ What care I?

I have loved this man too well, before he saw thee.

There, thou hast now my secret. I have loved him, And he loved me, and left me, and betrayed me.

Was it for him to brand me with this stain?

Unfit for thy companion! If I be, Whose fault is that but his, who found me pure And left me what I am?

_Gycia._ What! dost thou dare Malign my husband thus? I have known his life From his own lips, and heard no word of thee.

_Ire._ He did confess he knew me.

_Gycia._ Ay, indeed, Not that he did thee wrong.

_Ire._ My Lady Gycia, Did ever man confess he wronged a woman?

If thou believe not me, who am indeed Disgraced, and by his fault, thou once didst love My brother Theodorus--send for him.

He is without, and waits me. Ask of him, Who has long known my secret.

_Gycia._ I will ask him.

Thou wretched woman, since thou art polluted, Whate'er my love may be, go from my sight, And send thy brother. Then betake thyself To a close prison in the haunted Tower, Till I shall free thee. Out of my sight, I say, Thou wanton!

[_Exit_ IRENE.

What have I done, how have I sinned, that Heaven Tortures me thus? How can I doubt this creature Speaks something of the truth? Did he not say At first he never knew that wanton's name?

Did he not afterwards betray such knowledge Of her and of her life as showed the lie His former words concealed? And yet how doubt My dear, who by two years of wedded love Has knit my soul to his? I know how lightly The world holds manly virtue, but I hold The laws of honour are not made to bind Half of the race alone, leaving men licensed To break them when they will; but dread decrees Binding on all our kind. But oh, my love, I will not doubt thee, till conviction bring Proofs that I dare not doubt!

_Enter_ THEODORUS.

_Theo._ My Lady Gycia, I come at thy command.